About You

ABOUT YOU

by: luminatina

“There's never been a moment when I didn't recognize you. I'd know you in the dark,” he said. “From a thousand miles away. There's nothing you could become that I haven't already fallen in love with.” { Rainbow Rowell – Attachments }

- - -

I bit the top of the blue-inked yellow pen you gave me as I am thinking about the moments we shared, the smiles we captured and the words to put in this plain white paper. I am thinking about the things I fell in love with. I am thinking about you.

- - -

I woke up to the sound of my ring tone which, apparently, turned into an alarm. I sleepily clicked the 'answer' button and pressed my phone against my right ear.

“Hello?” I said.

“Get up, sleepyhead,” you replied in your own groggy, just-woke-up voice.

I smiled and immediately opened both my eyes that were falling back into sleep.

“Alright. You too,” I answered as I got up from my bed.

“Yeah. See you later. I love you,”

“I love you, too,” I said and then hung up.

I fell in love with the way you wake me up through an early-morning call. I fell in love with the way you start my day by saying how much you love me. I fell in love with your voice.

I hurriedly prepared myself for the day. It was just an ordinary day, but a special one for I was spending it with you.

I looked at myself in the mirror, hoping I looked okay. I wanted to look good for you, even at the very least.

Just in time, I heard the doorbell ring. I practically jumped out of my trance, and swiftly ran to the door just so no other person at home can open it.

There you were, standing casually in front of me in the most casual way possible. You wore a plain button-up shirt and jeans, but you looked so gorgeous.

“I'll just, uhm, grab my bag,” I said, biting my lip, containing myself from the pleasure of staring at you.

Right after I closed our door, I slipped my arms right at the bend in your elbows. We walked a few steps like that, like we were on a wedding or on a formal date. We reached your car, and you opened the door for me.

I settled myself comfortably in your passenger seat like it was made just for me. You drove quietly. You got one hand on the steering wheel, and the other hand on mine.

We stopped in front of a coffee shop, and before I can open the door, you already did. You were the most gentleman person in the world, in my world. You kind of dragged me out of my seat like they were about to ran out of coffee and we cannot afford not having one. From my wrist, you slipped your hand against my palm, and slowly crossed your fingers with mine.

I fell in love with the way you always open doors for me. I fell in love with the way you put your hands on mine. I fell in love with the way you intertwine our fingers. And then I realized, I fell in love with your gestures.

We settled in a two-chaired table at the corner. You always liked this spot, and I guess that's the reason why I started liking it, too.

The waiter handed us the menu, and I peeked at you as you roam your eyes around the list.

“What do you want?” I asked, and you lifted your eyes up and met mine.

“What do you want?” you repeated my question, throwing it back at me.

I smiled. I can see my reflection right at your eyes. And then I realized why I like this spot. It is because it is as if the light in this corner was made just so those beautiful eyes can stand out from all the colors in the world.

“Two java chip frappuccinos, please,” I told the waiter without taking my eyes of off you.

I fell in love with the way I feel like I am seeing all the colors through you. I fell in love with the way you look at me. I fell in love with the way your gaze meets mine. I fell in love with your eyes.

We did not do anything special, instead, we just talked. I declared I said the lamest joke ever, but you threw your head back laughing like you were a little kid.

“You're so perfect,” you said, right after you caught your breath.

“I am not. You are,” I replied, knowing, for a hundred percent, that I am as red as a tomato.

“So perfect,” you said, flashing me a smile, “...so perfect for me.”

I smiled back, and never took that curve off my face for the whole day.

I fell in love with the way you think I'm funny. I fell in love with the way you lose air when you laugh. I fell in love with the way you catch your breath. I fell in love with the way you grin at me. I fell in love with your smile.

We walked hand-in-hand to the place where we first met – in a library.

Too many things had changed since the day we met there. The shelves weren't where they were. The tables and the chairs were even replaced, but you still remembered that exact same spot where we first knew each other.

“Someday, I'll write a book,” you said while taking a seat on the couch I sat on that day we met, “I'll write about you.”

“What about me?” I asked.

“Anything. Everything,” you replied, tightening your grip around my hand, “I'll write about how your hair falls out of place in the most perfect way. I'll write about how you walk around the room so gracefully like you are dancing, about how you smile with your eyes, about how you read like you were lip synching the words. I'll write about all the things about you, all the things I fell in love with.”

I smiled, “I will, too. It's just that I'm not a good writer.”

You giggled, “And I'll write about how you'll still try to write even though you are not good writer.”

I fell in love with the way you talk about me. I fell in love with the way you notice all the things about me. I fell in love with the way you fell in love with me.

You wrapped your arms around me like you were shielding me from the cold, and at the very same time, you did not want me any farther away from you. We were watching the stars, but I was watching you – the metaphor of my own star. You were looking directly up at the sky, and I did not know if you were aware or completely oblivious that I was (star)gazing at you.

“I am so happy,” I heard you whisper.

I did not reply. I was too busy falling in love with you to utter a word. I fell in love with your voice, and how it seems like music to me. I fell in love with your gestures, and how they do the littlest, but sweetest things for me. I fell in love with your eyes, and how they appear like the stars to me. I fell in love with your smile, and how it makes me smile, too. I fell in love with how you fell for me, and how your reasons make me love you more. I fell in love with you. I just did.

- - -

My understandable-enough handwriting filled the whole of these pages. My thoughts are starting to compress into sentences. There are a lot of things I want to say which I cannot fathom into lines and phrases. I am running out of words, but I will never run out of reasons to why I fell in love with you. I will never run out of feelings to write about you. I carefully wrote every sentence in the scare that I might not say the perfect words that will express how I exactly feel.

I am writing about you just as I promised. I am not a good writer, but I hope I can be enough. I hope this can be enough.

I am in love with you, and I do not know a better process to exactly tell you how much I do than through this. I am in love with you, and I know that my words are not enough, but still I choose to put them as such. I am in love with you, and my emotions will not fit into these sheets of paper, but I hope you will, somehow, feel them while reading this.

I wrote the last three words at the bottom of the last page, and smiled as I placed the cap of my pen back to cover its tip.

I love you, and I am in love with all the reasons why I do so.

I love you, and there is not a single reason why I will not.

I love you, and I do not know any other way to love than how it is to fall in love with all the things about you.

fin.